


Behind Green Eyes

by IndigoNight



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Incest, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:23:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoNight/pseuds/IndigoNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fili knows his brother loves him. But sometimes, the love of a brother isn't enough. Fili becomes jealous of the attention Kili favors on their friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Pairing** : Fili/Kili  
>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own The Hobbit or the characters I’m just borrowing them for fun.  
>  **Spoilers** : Nope.  
>  **Warnings** : Fluff, some angst.  
>  **Author's Note** : Huge thanks to [ Thranduils-hart ](thranduils-hart.tumblr.com) for the awesome beta-ing. Any and all remaining mistakes are my own.  
>  **Now also available in[ Russian ](http://invertedworld.diary.ru/p184752348.htm) Thanks for the translation Kaya! **  
> **Enjoy!**

Fili took a deep, long draught of his mug of ale. A small group of his fellow dwarves stood nearby around a keg, and he watched them over the rim of his mug. They were laughing, joking and shoving each other playfully as they recounted - much embellished - tales of the hunt they had all gone on earlier that day. At the center of the group, laughing loudest and drinking most, stood his brother Kili.

“I thought I was done for,” Kili crowed, gesturing enough for his ale to slop over the rim of his mug. “A cliff at my back, that huge old wolf baring down on my front.”

“Ah, but you got him, didn’t you?” cheered Grórin, who was a few years younger than Kili and adored him, “Shot an arrow right between his eyes!” There was more cheering and drinking, and a round of slapping Kili on the back.

Fili sat quietly, removed from the others, who it seemed had all but forgotten he was there. Never mind that he had been the one to distract the wolf long enough for Kili to shoot his arrow, or that it was he who had spotted the wolf pack in time to sound the alarm before their hunting party was ambushed. Kili was the finest archer in this part of the mountains, and that was what was celebrated.

Fili loved his brother, more than anything. He did not truly begrudge the younger dwarf his skill, or his popularity. But sometimes it was a little like standing too close to the white-hot fires of a forge; there was a light in Kili, brilliant and alluring, that drew all those around him in like moths to flame. He often brought warmth and light to their lives, which was greatly needed as they were constantly surrounded by the gloom of their homeless wanderings. But sometimes it was too much, and Fili found himself blistering as he fell back behind the light of his brother, and shadows crept across his heart.

That was not to say that Fili himself was unpopular. He had many friends, and often found himself at the center of the group at his brother’s side. But it tired him sometimes, to be constantly so surrounded by the movement and noise of their kin, and he longed for the quieter moments when it was only the two of them. When every smile Kili gave was his and his alone, when it was his shoulder that Kili leaned against, and his ear into which Kili murmured his best jokes. No, he did not begrudge Kili his popularity, but perhaps he did begrudge the others Kili’s attention.

Such thoughts hit deep and hard, and with increasing frequency, but they were near impossible to hold onto for long. When Kili caught his eye and turned that bright smile like a ray of pure sunlight on him, all dark thoughts vanished like a puff of smoke; though hollowness still sat heavy in the pit of his stomach. 

The younger dwarf disentangled himself from their friends and dropped onto the bench beside Fili with a cheerful thunk, close enough to nudge his shoulder in silent, familiar greeting.

“You are quiet tonight, brother,” Kili teased. “Wolf got your tongue?”

A slow, reluctant smile spread Fili’s lips. It was drawn unbidden at Kili’s mere presence, and a part of Fili hated him for that. Not truly; he could never really hate Kili. In fact, he doubted anyone could. Anger, perhaps, was the better word; it angered him that his feelings were so easily swayed. Angered him that he gave in helplessly to Kili every time, and perhaps most of all that Kili seemed entirely unaware of the effect he had on those around him.

Fili shook his head, but before he could come up with an answer the other dwarves were already calling Kili back. “Come on,” they shouted, rosy-cheeked and brimming with ale. “We’re up to the wall for a game of darts!” And there, Fili had lost his brother’s attention yet again.

“Let’s go,” Kili agreed in excitement, rising and pulling Fili’s arm to urge him up. “We’ll show those drunkards a thing or two about aim.” The other dwarves had already gone on, the echoes of their playful boasts and jeers ringing down the hallway back to Fili and Kili’s ears.

Fili shook his head, remaining stubbornly in his seat. Most nights he would have joined them happily; he would have put himself at the center of their group at his brother’s side, whether they cared to have him there or not. But he was tired, and his heart was heavy with the weight of jealousy and sadness that he himself only partially understood. “You go on,” he urged, not wanting to ruin the younger dwarf’s fun. “I am tired and believe I shall head to bed.”

Kili paused, a frown creasing his forehead. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern darkening his eyes. It only made Fili feel all the more as though he should slink away into some hole in the ground; his hurt feelings were based and unfounded, and he turned them unfairly against his innocent brother, even in his own mind. “Were you injured?” Kili pressed, reaching toward Fili as though to check for himself. His eyes had widened in surprise and worry, as he had only just realized he had never asked after the skirmish earlier. To be fair, Fili had given him no reason to ask, and in fact was not hurt except for the inevitable odd scrape or bruise that were of no concern. Or rather, he was not hurt in body.

“I am fine,” he assured, clasping Kili’s forearm in an affirming gesture that thwarted Kili’s attempts to inspect him. “Only tired. Go on with the others if you wish; I fear I will be dull company tonight.”

Kili was convinced, if not entirely reassured, and slowly stepped toward the door. “Goodnight, then,” he said in farewell, hesitance in his eyes as he glanced back toward his brother. He could feel Fili’s gloom, though he did not understand it. Truthfully he had felt it growing for some time now, but had thus far failed to convince Fili to confide in him. He suspected Fili was pining for some dwarven lady, or some other matter equally trivial, but it still troubled him that Fili would not talk to him about it; they had shared everything with each other when they were younger, and were not accustomed to keeping secrets from one another. Kili was beginning to think he would have to seek Thorin’s council on the matter, though he wasn’t sure what help the older dwarf might be able to provide.

But the laughter of their friends still echoed distantly through the stone tunnels back to them, and Kili was drawn to it. Fili’s smile, though forced, went some way to assuring him that the matter could at least wait until morning and, setting aside his concern, Kili raced off after their kin.

Fili watched him go, heart heavy and darkness creeping quickly back in as he was left alone. He turned away from the sounds of laughter, draining the last drops of ale from his mug, and turning his boots in the opposite direction toward his bed. The stone halls were mostly empty, the hour late and nearly all of the older dwarves asleep already. Fili’s boots scraped softly and the sound echoed as he plodded toward his chambers.

The halls were beautiful, in their own way, though according to Thorin’s stories they were no match for the former glory of Erebor. They had come to stay here in the Iron Hills with their kinsman Dain and his people a few years ago. It was not the first time they'd enjoyed Dain's hospitality, and likely would not be the last. He was Thorin's closest kin, except for Fili and Kili themselves.

Most of the refugees of Erebor, few though they were, had broken up and drifted off to far corners of the world long ago. But Fili and Kili stayed at Thorin’s side; others joined them for a while, from time to time, remnants of their fallen kingdom flocking to their crownless king’s side, only to realize that Thorin still had nothing to give them and drift away again. It was for the best, really, Thorin was restless, the weight of their exile falling heaviest on his heart, and they rarely stayed in one place for long. Too large a company would find it difficult to keep up with Thorin’s nomadic wanderings. 

They had stayed in the Iron Hills surprisingly long this time. But Fili had seen the restlessness darkening Thorin’s eyes again these past few weeks and knew it would not now be long until they left. Already he could feel himself growing distant from these halls in his mind. Where for a time they had become familiar and assuring, now they became restrictive, like an ill-fitting chest guard. It was time to move on.

In a base way, Fili was grateful for Thorin’s wandering ways. While he enjoyed the relative comfort of the cities and outposts they visited, and he took pleasure in the company of their kin, in many ways it was easier on the road. On the road, especially when it was only Thorin, Kili, and himself, their adventures were shared alike; Kili shared with him every mishap, every moment of excitement, every new experience they discovered. But too often when they were among others Kili’s attentions wandered, he made too many friends, too easily. And while Fili too made friends, and together they found fine company wherever they went, always deep in the dark corners of his heart Fili begrudged the attention Kili showered on those around them and longed for the isolation of the wilds where he had to share Kili with only Thorin.

He kicked off his boots carelessly and dropped with a sigh onto the bed that was his for the duration of their stay. The bed was soft and familiar, and yet it chafed him and in a strange way he longed for hard ground and the quiet crackle of a campfire. But there was nothing for it just then, and he put such thoughts aside. Wrapping himself up tightly in his blankets he closed his eyes and listened to the slow beat of his aching heart. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

Sometime later Fili was pulled out of a light doze as the mattress under him shifted and cool air hit his back. He didn’t turn to look as Kili’s familiar body pressed against his back. Kili smelled of ale and fresh air from the outer wall, and his body was already warm and soft with oncoming sleep. Fili tensed slightly, but shifted over obligingly to allow his brother room; Kili hadn’t come crawling into his bed at night since they were very young, but Fili welcomed it all the same.

Kili slipped an arm around Fili, drawing in close to him and pressing his face into the dip between FIli’s shoulder blades. “We will be leaving soon,” he murmured, knowing Fili was awake and echoing his earlier thoughts. “No more than a day or two, I expect. I saw Thorin gathering supplies earlier today.”

Fili nodded, fingers curling in the rough wool of the blanket he clutched to his chest. He had nothing helpful to offer, so he said nothing. Kili always took it harder when time came to leave; he made friends easily, but always grieved when it came time to part from him, even though he knew that they would probably return again for a time, eventually.

“Where do you think we’ll go next?” Kili asked when Fili failed to break the silence.

“I don’t know,” Fili answered quietly. He didn’t particularly want to think about where they would go; it was the journey he longed for. Kili apparently caught the undertone of impatience in his brother’s voice, because he fell silent and they both lay quietly for a time.

Fili was just beginning to believe that Kili had fallen asleep when the younger dwarf spoke once more. His voice was soft, so soft that Fili might have easily missed it, and there was a low sadness to it that spoke of the gentleness in Kili’s heart. It was easy to forget or overlook that gentleness sometimes, in the midst of his usual cheer and playfulness. But it was his words, more than his tone, that rent Fili’s heart. “Why do you no longer talk to me as you used to?” Kili asked, voice little more than a whisper. It brought up old memories of when they were children and had spent long, lonely night huddled in each other’s arms.

Fili swallowed, back stiffening slightly. He’d thought he had kept at least most of his black moods from his brother’s awareness. How was he to answer that? He had never lied to Kili, but this was a truth he did not think he could tell. In truth, he wasn’t entirely certain he understood the answer himself. So he didn’t speak, half hoping to feign sleep though he knew Kili wouldn’t believe it. 

Silence fell between them, Fili remaining silent and Kili not speaking again until a heavy blanket of sleep had fallen over both of them. Kili tightened his arm around his brother, warm puffs of his breath ghosting across the back of Fili’s neck. “I miss you,” Kili whispered, words slow and a little muddled as the realm of dreams claimed him.

Fili’s heart twisted and hot tears stung his eyes. He was a fool. Sweet, innocent Kili had never intentionally injured him, and yet he kept pushing Kili away; punishing his younger brother for something that neither of them could control. He swallowed back the ache in his chest, feeling as though he had somehow turned traitor to the one he loved above all else. “I miss you too,” he mumbled into his pillow, knowing Kili wouldn’t hear. Somehow, he vowed, he would find a way to bridge the distance that had fallen between them; he would purge the shadows that had fallen over his heart and heal the terrible hurt that leaked into Kili’s voice. Maybe someday he could be worthy of his brother’s love once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin gets fed up; Fili and Kili have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Pairing** : Fili/Kili  
>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own The Hobbit or the characters I’m just borrowing them for fun.  
>  **Spoilers** : Nope.  
>  **Warnings** : Fluff, some angst.  
>  **Author's Note** : Huge thanks to [ Thranduils-hart ](thranduils-hart.tumblr.com) for the awesome beta-ing. Any and all remaining mistakes are my own.  
>  **Enjoy!**

Fili and Kili’s prediction turned out right, and three days later they were on the road with the Iron Hills at their backs. 

Fili’s spirits rose quickly as he turned his face to the cool breeze of the open road. He rode out ahead of Kili and Thorin, tilting his head up toward the sun and breathing deep. Already the dark shadows that had troubled his heart seemed far away and all but forgotten in the cold tunnels they left behind. He crested the last of the foothills surrounding Dain’s lands and paused, chest swelling with delight as he looked out across the plains that stretched before them, away toward the sea of Rhûn. Like all dwarves, he would always be more comfortable among the cliffs and tunnels of the mountains, but after so long held under the weight of shadows in his own heart, the open, grassy land seemed a welcome breath of fresh air.

He paused at the top of the hill, glancing back toward the Iron Hills they left behind. Thorin and Kili were not far behind him, their ponies plodding steadily up the hill. He wasn’t certain where Thorin meant to go this time; he and Kili never asked and Thorin rarely felt the need to tell them. But at that moment he couldn’t bring himself to care much.

Suddenly Kili dug his heels into his pony’s sides to overtake Fili, leaving Thorin behind to continue at a stoic, mature pace. A broad grin split Kili’s face, an expression that Fili knew well to mean that the spirit of adventure had taken the younger dwarf. “Don’t fall behind now, brother,” Kili shouted as he trotted past, whooping with carefree delight.

Kili’s enthusiasm was infectious, and, as it always did, it dug into Fili’s heart. It drove out any lingering shadow and Fili bent over his pony’s neck to race after his brother. Neither paid any mind to Thorin’s grumpy warnings not to wander too far off.

On the whole, their journey was unexciting. For some weeks they traveled across rocky plains and low hills. Thorin seemed particularly grumpy and distant, and Fili and Kili were wise enough to stay out of the way of his temper. By they made up for it by enjoying each other’s company; singing songs as they rode, racing each other for short stretches, or playing other games that they had learned or created long ago to entertain themselves. Thorin clearly had a purpose in mind, but, despite his occasional complaints, he appeared to be in no hurry and made no real attempts to stop younger dwarves from straying off to explore the surrounding area.

For a time, Fili was perfectly happy. His brother was his own again, blessing him with unending hours of undivided attention. They detoured to hunt, climbed the trees in the sparse glens they passed through, and explored the crevices of jutting rocks that stretched out from the lesser mountains they were traveling alongside. Long nights they spent around the fire, laughing and singing, or telling and retelling old stories; legends of their people or embellished reminiscences of their own past adventures. It was late in the year, and more often than not they pulled their blankets close together on cold nights, shoulders pressed together and thick hair mingling across the ground beneath them.

But as weeks passed and the initial euphoria of being on the road again faded, the brothers both became all the more aware of the distance that grew between them. They may have spent their days together, and talked themselves hoarse recounting tales of the past, but they never spoke of each other. Fili’s black moods began to creep back over his heart in quiet moments, and though he knew Kili watched him, neither spoke of it. Fili would not speak of it, and Kili would not ask again, and the silence between their hearts grew ever louder.

Even Thorin could not help but notice, though he kept his council to himself. He watched his young nephews with the wisdom that age and a hard life had brought him. And indeed he discerned the truth of their troubles long before either of the younger dwarves did. But by his esteem, their problems were petty and not his concern, so he left them to sort it out on their own in time.

But, like nearly all of their kind, Fili and Kili were stubborn and as they journeyed the gulf between them only grew. Their singing and laughter faded, then ceased. They no longer wandered away to marvel over whatever curiosities lay along the road or played games to wile away the long, tedious hours. Even the mundane, necessary conversations of daily life became stilted and short; and though they often watched each other longingly when the other’s back was turned, they rarely held eye contact for more than a moment or two.

Neither intended for it to happen, and in fact neither were entirely sure how it had happened. True to his vow, Fili had tried. He’d tried so very hard, insisting they sing Kili’s favorite songs, challenging him to archery contests and other throwing games that he knew Kili would win. But always Kili watched him with caution, his heart still hurt by Fili’s refusal to confide in him.

In the end, it was Thorin who became fed up and broke the impasse. He called for a halt earlier than was their habit, while the sun was still well above the horizon. They were in the midst of a small thicket of trees; pine trees that, though tall, were young and green yet. It took no time at all to tend to the ponies and gather the wood for their fire. Thorin had selected a glen that was bordered on one side by the round trunk of a recently fallen tree and on the other side opened into a small clearing of thick grass where the ponies could graze.

“Sit,” Thorin commanded gruffly, gesturing to the fallen tree. Fili and Kili looked at him in confusion, but did not glance at each other. Knowing better than to cross their uncle, after a baffled moment, they sat; though they kept a good two feet of distance between themselves.

“I am going hunting,” Thorin declared, tightening the strap the held the scabbard of his long knife to his belt. “While I am gone, neither of you are to rise from that tree trunk.”

Fili and Kili’s confusion only grew, and this time they did glance at each other, very briefly. It wasn’t the first time they had been given such orders; it had been a common practice, long ago when they had been but children, if Thorin and any other adults they were traveling with had cause to all be busy at once. Not that they had ever been particularly good at following such orders. But, though still young, they were adults now and saw no reason why Thorin would revert to treating them like errant children.

“I am tired of your moping and pining,” Thorin continued, by way of explanation. “By the time I return I expect you to have resolved whatever is troubling you, so that we may continue our journey in peace.” Fili’s chest clenched and Kili’s stomach flipped and both looked down to their boots, starting to feel like children again after all. Thorin grunted in dissatisfaction and left them to it.

Neither spoke for several long minutes. Fili fidgeted, adjusting and readjusting his belt for lack of anything else to occupy himself with. Kili, on the other hand, sat utterly still in stony silence, his gaze directed firmly straight ahead so as not to risk accidentally catching Fili’s eye. It was an old tactic that Kili had not had cause to use in many long years, though he had used it often as a child; despite his near inexhaustible energy and enthusiasm under other circumstances, Kili had never been one to shout and throw fits when he was upset. Instead he would shut down, sitting utterly still and silent as though he himself might turn to stone. That he had fallen back into the old technique spoke volumes of how deeply hurt he was, and it tore at Fili’s heart.

Fili had never meant to hurt his brother like this, and indeed he still wasn’t entirely certain how things had come this far. They had not argued; neither had spoken a single cross word to the other. And yet somehow both had been cut deep and Fili was at a loss as to how to fix it.

“Kili,” he started hesitantly, knowing that as he had begun the whole situation it would, and should, fall to him to speak first. But words failed him and he glanced sideways at Kili, hoping for some sign of reaction from his brother, but he received none.

Kili’s lips were pressed into a thin line, his jaw clenched as he stared determinedly in the general direction of the ponies. His hair was still an untidy, windblown tangle from riding earlier and fell back across his shoulders, away from his face. As moments passed and Fili stared helplessly at him, he prayed for some divine inspiration. Just then the sun slid low enough on the horizon to break through a gap in the trees on Kili’s other side, lighting the younger dwarf in a bath of golden rays. The light of the dying sun softened Kili’s features in such a way that it was all Fili could do to keep from reaching out and pulling his brother to him. He had long ago acknowledged, if only to himself, that Kili was remarkably beautiful for their kind; though he had never allowed himself to express that thought.

But that was not all that the sun highlighted. Though the rest of his face was stony and still, Kili’s sparse beard, which had only just begun growing in, left his chin exposed. So that when the sunlight hit it Fili could see it tremble, just a little. It made Fili’s breath catch and his heart clench, and a tide of emotion loosened his tongue before he could stop to consider his words.

“Oh Kili,” he cried, giving in and unclenching his hands to reach for his brother, “I am so sorry. I never meant-”

But Kili did not let him finish. He leapt from the log, moving out of Fili’s reach. “I just don’t understand!” Kili burst, the tangled locks of his hair spinning around his head as he whirled to face Fili. “What have I done to make you so angry with me? Why would you not just tell me? Whatever it is, I will do my best to make it up to you. Why are you punishing me like this?”

Fili’s heart plummeted with the weight of guilt. How long had Kili been searching for reasons to blame himself for the distance between them? He shook his head, speechless with guilt and grief for the pain he’d inadvertently caused his brother.

“Just tell me what I have done,” Kili pleaded, taking Fili’s hand imploringly.

At last Fili’s throat un-stuck. “No, Kili,” he insisted, voice threatening to crack, “No, you have done nothing. It was me, this... this is my fault. Not yours.”

“I don’t understand,” it was Kili’s turn to shake his head.

Fili barely resisted the urge to hide his face in shame. “Nor do I, really,” he confessed, “It’s all so stupid. I never meant for this to happen.”

“What?” Kili asked. “Tell me now, so that we can fix it and be done with this terrible business.” He was still clasping Fili’s hand and it at once made Fili’s heart swell and feel as though it had been pieced with bolts of guilt. Sweet Kili, who was always so cheerful and thought everything simple. “It happened before we left the Iron Hills, didn’t it?” Kili prompted, when Fili still hesitated to speak. “Something upset you. What was it?”

“I... became jealous,” he confessed, unable to meet Kili’s soft eyes.

“Jealous?” Kili blinked in surprise, and for a moment Fili thought he might laugh. He didn’t though, and Fili couldn’t help being grateful for it. “Of my archery?” Kili’s mind jumped automatically back to their last days in the Iron Hills and came up with the only explanation he found. “But Fili that’s silly. There are so many things you’re far more skilled at than me. What about your skill with the throwing ax? Or how you’re faster than any dwarf I’ve ever met. Not to mention your skill at silverwork; I dare say no one can set a finer inlay this side of the Blue Mountains!” Kili declared sincerely. That of course, was not true; though Fili did have some natural affinity for the shaping of silver, he was young and his skills were still largely un-refined. But Kili spoke with the earnest naivety of his love, and though Fili did not at that moment feel as though he deserved it, it warmed his heart all the same.

“Not jealous of you,” he corrected. “Though your talent with a bow is indeed worthy of envy,” he added with a small smile. He sighed, fidgeting uncomfortably before he could work up the courage to continue. “I became jealous of those around you. Of the attention you gave them.”

“Oh, Fili,” Kili protested. He sat back on the fallen tree trunk, though this time he straddled it, and tugged at Fili’s hands until the older dwarf did the same and they were facing one another. “You know no matter how many friends I make, they’ll never be even half as important to me as you.”

“I know that,” he admitted. It was true; he had never doubted that his brother loved him. “I told you it was silly.”

Silence fell between them once more, though of a different sort, as Kili sat staring at him for several long minutes. There was a small crease of a frown between his eyebrows and the light of deep thought in his eyes. He considered what Fili said, turning all that had happened between them these past few weeks over and over in his mind. Then suddenly, without a word, he leaned forward and planted a short but firm kiss on Fili’s lips.

Fili’s eyes widened and his heart flipped. Some knot deep in his chest loosened as though, without even realizing it, he had been waiting for Kili to do exactly that for some time. He licked his lips almost subconsciously as Kili pulled away, the taste of his brother lingering there. Then without another thought he tightened his grip on Kili’s hand and pulled him back again. This time the kiss lasted for much longer and delved much deeper.

When at last they pulled apart for air, both were rosy cheeked and panting. “You’re right,” Kili agreed around a broad grin, “Very silly. Very silly indeed.” Fili hummed, nodding in agreement. But he didn’t have time to say anything before Kili was kissing him yet again.

By the time Thorin returned sometime later, Fili and Kili were once again sitting demurely side-by-side on the fallen tree trunk. Thorin set down the brace of rabbits he’d caught and appraised his nephews for a moment, noting that the distance between them had vanished. They were leaning against each other, smiling and laughing as though without a care in the world. And if their tunics were poorly buttoned, and their hair a little more tousled than usual, Thorin, wisely, chose to ignore it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A run in with some orcs, a reunion with Dwalin, and a quiet moment between the brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Pairing** : Fili/Kili  
>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own The Hobbit or the characters I’m just borrowing them for fun.  
>  **Spoilers** : Nope.  
>  **Warnings** : Fluff, some angst.  
>  **Author's Note** : Huge thanks to [ Thranduils-hart ](thranduils-hart.tumblr.com) for the awesome beta-ing. Any and all remaining mistakes are my own.  
>  **Enjoy!**

A week later they were approaching the edges of the sea of Rhûn. Fili and Kili left their ponies to trail along behind Thorin’s, choosing instead to stretch their legs for a bit. It was a beautiful day, and they knew that they were approaching their destination; which Thorin had eventually informed them was a small village at the edge of the sea, made up of a mixed populace of dwarves and men. Dwalin was said to have settled there a few years ago, thus Thorin’s desire to visit. It had been many years since Fili and Kili had seen the burly dwarf, and they were eager to enjoy his company once more.

It was not yet midday and the sun was still soft in the east, but already the air was warm and the grass crisp under their boots as they walked. Their hearts were at ease and carefree in the bright light of morning. Fili was combing his fingers through his beard; it was short and thoroughly unimpressive by dwarven standards, but coming in much better than Kili’s so far.

“Soon I’ll be able to start braiding it,” he declared delightedly. Kili laughed and shoved him playfully. He loved to tease Fili about his excessive fondness for braids, though that never stopped him from occasionally helping Fili to plait his thick, unruly hair. Fili let himself fall back a step in response to Kili’s shove, and clutched his own chest with mock injury. But his foot landed wrong, slipping on the edge of the grassy ridge they’d been walking along, and he slipped, tumbling down the side of the hillock.

“Fili!” Kili cried, leaping after him. Fili tucked his arms into his sides and ducked his chin, letting himself gain momentum as he rolled until he landed in the shallow valley formed between two rises of the land. He landed on his back and let his limbs sprawl lazily, laughing up at the sky. It was a matter of moments before Kili was tumbling down beside him, all but landing on top of him. Once he had assured himself that Fili was unhurt, Kili laughed too.

There was something about the way that Kili laughed, the way that he threw his whole body into it and his whole face lit up. Unable to resist, Fili leaned up and stole a chaste kiss from those smiling lips, before easily shoving his younger brother off of him and rolling to his feet.

By that point Thorin had drawn his pony to a halt at the top of the ridge they’d just tumbled down. He watched them with an expression that was somewhere between fond and long suffering. “Enough horsing around,” he grunted impatiently. Most others, perhaps, would have been cowed, but his nephews saw all too easily the slight twitch of his lips and were therefore utterly unfazed by the bark in his tone.

All the same they started to trek back up the hill to meet him. But they had not gone far before Fili stopped, a faint sound reaching his ears. He held very still, uncertain he had actually heard anything at all, and tilted his head to see if it came again. Thorin noticed first and frowned, going on alert.

“What is it?” Thorin asked, hand already straying toward his sword hilt.

“I could have sworn-” Fili stopped. There, the sound came again, and this time he was certain; the distinctive clash of metal against metal, followed by grunts of pain and exertion. This time, Kili and Thorin heard it too. It came from the other side of the rise opposite the one Kili and Fili had tumbled down, and the younger dwarves did not hesitate to turn that direction.

They crept up the hillside carefully, Thorin leaving their ponies behind as he followed his nephews. When they peeked over the crest of the hill a troublesome sight met their eyes: a band of orcs was closing in on a group of three humans and a dwarf. The orcs were few in number, comparative to the hoards they usually traveled in, and weakened by the bright morning sunlight; but all the same the dwarf and men were outnumbered five to one.

“That’s Dwalin,” Kili exclaimed, recognizing the glint of the sun off of the older dwarf’s tattooed head.

Dwalin and his companions were putting up a valiant fight, but the odds were stacked too high against them. Just then a smaller orc managed to unbalance Dwalin, leaping onto his back and forcing him to the ground. Dwalin struggled, but the orc held him pinned, and a second orc stepped up to level its misshapen broadsword at the back of Dwalin’s exposed neck.

Moving on reflex, Kili instantly leapt to his feet. Bow already in hand, he drew two arrows from his quiver and fired them in quick succession. The first landed solidly in the standing orc’s neck and its broadsword fell away harmlessly as the beast died. Kili’s second arrow pierced the smaller orc’s shoulder, and though it was not a fatal shot, it threw the orc off long enough for Dwalin to unbalance it and scramble to his feet.

After that the tide was turned. Kili remained where he was, firing his arrows at the orcs wherever he could find a clean shot. Meanwhile, Fili and Thorin drew their swords and leapt into the fray. The orcs were frightened and thrown off guard by the sudden attack, while Dwalin and the men were heartened by it and renewed their own efforts. Though still outnumbered, the dwarves and men were invigorated, and with the help of Kili’s arrows they made short work of the orcs.

Once the fight was done, Dwalin and Thorin clasped hands in greeting over the corpse of the last orc. Dwalin introduced his human companions and explained how their little party had been set upon by the orcs on their way back from hunting. He was pleased to see his kin, though surprised as Thorin had not sent word ahead, and greeted Fili and Kili warmly.

Once the orc corpses were gathered and burned, they all set off together back to the village where Dwalin lived. It was a short journey, and the dwarves spent most of it catching up.

Later that night there was a grand supper with much drinking. Dwalin was well-liked in that village, and many of his friends among the dwarves and men alike gathered to eat and share news with the visitors. It was a good evening, filled with much talk and laughter. Kili easily fell into his usual place at the center of it all, entertaining the assembled company with his stories and jokes. 

Fili remained steadfastly at his side, enjoying the mirth as much as anyone else. But as the night wore on, Fili began to grow weary. He had been reassured of Kili’s love for him, and he found the crowd easier to bare; but already he began to long for a quieter atmosphere and the warmth of Kili wrapped up in his arms.

“Those arrows of yours saved my life, lad,” Dwalin crowed, not for the first time, as he slapped Kili on the back and offered him another drink.

Kili smiled, and shook his head. “It is Fili you should thank,” he insisted, glancing at his brother with a softness in his eyes that Fili knew belonged to him alone. “If not for his keen ears we would have walked right past you, never the wiser.” A cheer went up around the assembled group and they all drank to Fili’s health. 

Fili flushed a little, but the moment passed quickly and talk turned to other things once more. At the other end of the table, one of the other dwarves challenged one of the men to attempt juggling some of the dishes; both had had entirely too much to drink and were making a spectacle of themselves.

Kili took the opportunity to lean against his brother’s side and murmur softly for his ears alone. “I am tired,” he said, a private smile on his lips, “I believe it is time we went to bed, brother.”

The last knot of tension in Fili’s chest went slack, and he nodded in grateful agreement. Together the two bid the others goodnight and slipped away quietly to the pallets Dwalin had given them to sleep on. The brothers fell into bed, though it was some time before they got around to sleeping. When at last they settled down, Fili curled himself around his younger brother, burying his face in Kili’s dark hair. He let out a soft sigh as peace and contentment filled him. He had never in his life felt less alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE ^^


End file.
